The Parent Trap
by PteraWaters
Summary: <html><head></head>Mabel Puckerman and Molly Hummel were never supposed to meet, but they did. Can two thirteen-year-old girls concoct the perfect revenge to pull on their still-single fathers, or will their plans come crashing down around them? Future!fic Movie!Fic Puckurt</html>
1. Chance Meetings and The Plan

**Author Notes: **Written for an awesome prompt in the puckurt fic meme on livejournal. Un-beta'd. Sorry if I missed any mistakes. I seriously do not have time to write this, but the plot bunny bit me _so hard_, you guys.**  
>Summary: <strong>Mabel Puckerman and Molly Hummel were never supposed to meet, but they did. Can two thirteen-year-old girls concoct the perfect revenge to pull on their still-single fathers, or will their plans come crashing down around them? Obviously based on the 1961 movie of the same name (because Haley Mills is way better than LiLo).

**Chapter 1: **Chance Meetings/The Plan**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Mabel Puckerman grew up the daughter of a rock star. It had only ever been her, her dad, and her Aunt Sarah, all living together in their house in LA. Mabel's dad, Noah Puckerman, was always too busy, always too wrapped up in his music, to be anything but a rock star and a dad. That was it. "It's sad, though," Mabel said to her aunt one afternoon as they were painting their toenails together. "I mean, you've got a boyfriend, at least. Dad hasn't seen anyone since I can ever remember. He's all alone."<p>

"And you don't think this is something I've nagged him about?" Sarah laughed, switching from blue polish to green. "I'm all the time, 'Noah, you should date,' 'Noah, I have this friend,' 'Noah you should get laid'-"

"Ew!" Mabel cried, throwing a cotton ball at her aunt. "I don't need to hear about that. It's just … he should have someone, right? He _never_ talks about my mom. It's like I never even had a mom, you know?"

"Uh…" Sarah replied, looking up at the ceiling like she was trying to come up with something to say. "Look, you didn't … I mean, you had another parent when you were born. It's just…"

Mabel didn't like the tone in her aunt's voice. "What?" she asked, a little afraid of whatever Sarah was trying not to say.

"I shouldn't be the one telling you this, but you're thirteen now. I guess you should know," she sighed.

Suspense killing her, Mable cried, "Know what?"

"That when you were born, your dad was married to a man. They had you with a surrogate," she explained, and Mabel suddenly felt dizzy – not all of which could be explained by nail polish fumes.

"What was his name? Dad's husband?" Mable asked, needing to know about this man his father had been _married _to.

Sarah sighed again, capping her bottle of polish and admitted, "His name is Kurt. I guess they figured when they split up, since Noah was your bio-dad, he should keep you."

Mabel had always had doubts just how related to her father she could be. She supposed they had the same eye-color, and maybe their noses were similar, but she always thought she looked more like her Aunt Sarah than her father. Plus, they had hardly anything in common. Then, there was the bombshell that her dad had been married to a freaking _man_! "Why didn't anyone ever say anything? My dad's gay?"

"Eh," Sarah shrugged noncommittally. "Not _technically_. And once he started getting famous, Noah figured his past with Kurt would do his image more harm than good. He banned anyone from talking about his ex, especially in front of you."

After a moment, Mabel decided, "That is fucked up," and dodged the smack Sarah aimed at her arm for using her father's language.

* * *

><p>"Now sweetie," Molly's father said as he tied a scarf around her neck, "you know why you have to look good at school."<p>

"I'm sick of wearing fancy clothes," Molly sighed. "I don't care if you're the biggest fashion designer since Issac Mizrahi, Daddy, I really don't! I just want to wear something _comfortable_ for once."

"Fine," he sighed, undoing the scarf and tossing it onto Molly's bed. "Wear whatever you want and we'll just pray that there aren't any reporters outside your school today – on the day my new line goes public."

Feeling guilty and knowing that it was her birthright to be in the public eye like this, Molly scowled and grabbed the scarf, tying it around her neck perfectly before lifting her long hair and straightening it. "No soccer today, then?"

Fixing her hair a little with one hand and kissing her on the cheek, Molly's father replied, "Not if you can help it, pumpkin. I swear, once all the press is over, you can go back to wearing your uniform all day every day, if you like."

Smiling at the warmth on her father's face, Molly hugged him tightly, careful not to wrinkle his suit or her dress, and whispered, "Thanks, Daddy. I'll see you when you get back from Paris?"

Nodding, her father insisted, "You be good for your grandparents, alright? If I get back and hear they had to run all over the city after you, someone's not getting that new set of cleats she's had her eye on, alright?"

"Okay, dad," Molly nodded with an exasperated sigh, looking over her shoulder when her phone buzzed on her desk. "I should probably get that."

"Have a nice week, honey," her dad nodded, giving her one last hug. "I'll bring you back some of those Parisian chocolates you love, even if they do go right to the hips."

Molly laughed and waved her dad off, making sure he was gone before she scrambled for her phone. "Did you get them?" she asked.

"Yes!" her friend Hannah replied. "I got the tickets and my sister's going to take us. Molly Hummel, get ready for the best night of your life."

"As long as I can give my grandparents the slip," Molly warned. "My Grandpa is still pretty slick. He'll want to talk to your mom."

"I can get my sister to call. She does a great impression of our mom. Nothing's going to keep you from seeing Noah Puckerman in concert, Molly. Nothing!"

Molly squealed in farewell, heart pounding that she was finally going to see her favorite musician in person. She had no idea why her dad had banned all of his music from the house, the tyrant, but she couldn't help but love the man's voice and love picking along with his tracks on her secret at-school guitar. Unlike Hannah, she couldn't imagine herself dating Noah (especially since he was old enough to be her father), but she felt connected to him and his music just the same.

"I'm being silly," she grinned to herself, packing her school bag (with concert-friendly clothes) and waving goodbye to her grandparents as she let herself out of the flat and skipped toward the elevator. Just a few hours of school to get through and she would be having the night of her life.

* * *

><p>Mabel hated missing school like this, but her father wanted her to come with him on his three-day concert weekend in Boston. "The music's not gonna hold out forever, Peach-pie," he said as they settled into their first-class seats on the plane. "Getting sick of LA, anyway. I've been thinking of moving back east, and I wanna know if you like Boston or not."<p>

"I _might_," Mabel stressed with a disbelieving frown. "I'd like New York better, though. How come I never get to go there with you?"

"New York sucks," he replied with an offhand sniff. "You'd hate it there, despite how it looks in all those movies you watch."

"You'd think," she laughed, grabbing her father's hand, "that being a musician would make you _like_ musicals."

Noah shrugged and flagged down the flight attendant for a drink – just Coke, thank you, since he'd been sober for eleven years and wasn't going down that road again. Not when he had Mabel to think about, which she thought was really great of him. Not everyone's dad was as reliable as hers, especially not most of the kids she went to school with. More than once, she had let her friend Kyra stay over when the girl's mother was too stoned off her ass to remember she even had a daughter.

Thinking about it during the long flight, Mabel thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad, living on the east coast. She didn't mind visiting her Nana in Ohio. In fact, it was kind of a relief after the nonstop gossip-mill that was LA. There, paparazzi followed her almost everywhere, snapping pictures of Mabel just living her life. In fact, she'd lost more than one real friend, because they didn't like showing up on the gossip blogs, and gained new friends where that was all they cared about. Being famous sucked and her dad never let her take all the free stuff that might have made up for it. He always said, "I make plenty of money, Peach-pie, I can provide for my own damn family."

Rather than her dad's sense of pride, Mabel thought would rather use her celebrity at a boutique from which she knew she could get that new Kurt Hummel designer gown she'd been eyeing for the big price of absolutely nothing. It wasn't fair.

* * *

><p>"How much longer before we get there?" Molly asked Hannah's sister, Jody.<p>

"A while," the older girl replied, smacking her gum as she passed another car on the freeway. Molly smirked and wondered what Jody's face would look like when she got pulled over. She guessed it would be epically hilarious.

"Hey," Hannah said from the front passenger seat, poking at her phone, "did you guys know that Noah has a daughter? It says here she's fourteen."

"Just a year older than us?" Molly asked. "That's amazing! What does she look like?"

Hannah poked around a little more before replying, "I can't really tell. All the pictures of her are from far away. It makes me wonder about her mother. You think the reason we never hear about Noah dating women is because he's already married? That would be a shame?"

"Can we not talk about his personal life?" Molly asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I just want to go to the concert and get lost in the music, you know?"

"Maybe there's a clue in the music," Hannah cried, poking at the stereo console until the first track from Noah's first album came on.

_Babe I know I left you,  
>But I don't want to say,<br>All the things that I should  
>And just how hard I pray.<em>

_You took half my life.  
>You don't pick up when I call.<br>Babe, I guess I miss you,  
>But I miss her most of all.<em>

_How could you take her (take her),  
>And leave me broken down? (Down, down, down)<br>I need you back, need you both (both),  
>Need our crazy f***cked up town.<em>

_Baby, I'll come home, if you come home, too.  
>Meet me by the lake and I'll follow you.<br>Make us whole again, I don't want to fight  
>Baby, I just need you both tonight.<em>

The song repeated some of the lyrics again and when it was over, Hannah turned the stereo off, turning around in her seat to face Molly. "I think it must be about his daughter's mom, don't you? Like, 'I need you both,' means her and the kid."

"That makes sense," Molly nodded, her chest tight at the thought that Noah might play this amazing song live tonight. Oh, she could die happy if she got to watch his face and hear that amazing voice in person as he sang.

* * *

><p>"You wanna stay back here?" her father's manager asked Mabel, pointing to the green room, "or would you like to watch the show? If that's the case, I have to get you a pass, so the bouncers recognize you."<p>

Mabel hadn't seen her dad perform live in almost a year (except for his little at-home, impromptu writing sessions, or when she asked him to sing for her birthday) so she nodded, "Yeah, I want to watch the show." Noah had been complaining about his drummer lately, and Mabel also wanted to see for herself if his complaints were warranted, or if he was just getting cranky in his old age.

The manager, Steve or Stephen or something, got Mabel the pass and set her in front of a female bouncer. "This is Petunia," he insisted, and Mabel tried not to laugh at the unusual name, "stick with her, alright? We wouldn't want you going missing, now would we?"

Steve was gone before Mabel could retort, "I'm not six years old anymore!" So she gave Petunia a sickeningly sweet smile and said, I'm going to grab a seat up in the balcony before more people get here."

It was an hour and a half before the opening band was supposed to start and already the seats were filling up, but Mabel managed to find a quiet section. She was a good twenty yards away from the stage, but high-up so she had a good, if angled view, from stage left. Mable killed some time texting with her friends, and when she looked up again, two girls who looked like sisters, plopped down in the seats next to her, saying, "There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you, Molly!"

Confused, Mabel looked around and saw Petunia heading toward them, about ready to bust some skulls before Mabel waved her off. Instead, she turned to the two strangers and asked, "Who's Molly?"

* * *

><p>Molly and her friends got to the theater in Boston really early, but decided to see if they could get in and maybe get some seats right away. Hannah answered all the standard, yes they're over twelve, yes I won't leave them alone, yes I'm eighteen questions and then they were in.<p>

"That's the stage!" Molly cried when they saw it, rushing forward to get a good look at the instruments standing around dormant while they waited for the show to start, too. She didn't see Noah's signature Fender, so she deduced that these instruments must belong to the opening band, whose name she couldn't even remember.

When she turned around to look for her friends, they were gone, and Molly suddenly felt like the stupidest person on the planet. How many times had her dad told her to quit running off in public places? Why did she suddenly feel about five years old? No, she was thirteen and she could handle this. She would just have to systematically look for her friends until she found them. There was still an hour before the show started. It would be easy to find them before then, right?

As she was pacing down the length of the stage, looking out into the thin crowd, Molly bumped into someone. He was an older man, athletic-looking, with graying hair and a chin-strap beard. "What are you doing down here?" he asked, shaking his head. "What happened to that pass I gave you and Petunia?"

Molly had no idea what the guy was talking about, so she did what she did best and shrugged.

"I hate it when you do that," he sighed, hands on his hips. "You remind me too much of your father."

"You know my dad?" Molly asked suspiciously. She knew her Dad was famous, but why would any of his acquaintances be at a rock show in Boston?

The man gave her a 'don't be stupid' look and turned her around by the shoulders. "Let's get you back to the green room and get you another backstage pass before I have the bouncers kick you out of the show entirely, alright?"

Molly definitely didn't want to miss out on getting to go backstage, so she swallowed her reservations about following the man and let him lead her toward a door at the side of the theater. She almost turned back halfway down the dim hallway beyond the door, but then the man showed her into a room with couches and a table of food, Noah Puckerman's famous Fender sitting right in the middle of the room.

"Thanks," she told the man, sighing in relief when he went away, leaving her alone with that beautiful, beautiful guitar.

It took about ten minutes of "Will I, won't I?" before Molly worked up the nerve to just press one finger to the guitar's fret board. When no alarms sounded and no one came in to stop her, Molly picked up the guitar. She sat down on one of the couches and settled the guitar into her lap, picking out a simple tune. God, the instrument was gorgeous. The strings felt like butter and the fret board was a little too big for her hands, but the wood felt warm, almost alive.

Why couldn't her dad let her have an instrument like this at home, rather than the piece-of-crap that she'd bought at a second-hand shop and had to keep at school for fear of it being confiscated? Every other instrument – piano, cello, clarinet – all the others were okay. Molly's father just had something against the one instrument in particular that she couldn't keep her hands off of.

* * *

><p>The two girls beside Mabel laughed when she asked them, "Who's Molly?" which she thought was a weird reaction. The younger girl pointed at her and asked, "When did you change your clothes? I thought what you had on before was good!"<p>

"I didn't…" Mabel tried to say, before deciding these girls were just crazy. So, she changed tactics and said, "Save my seat? I'm gonna go get a soda." They just smiled and nodded, so Mabel made her escape vowing to listen to the show from backstage for the rest of her life. Maybe she was just _too_ used to LA, and couldn't understand people from outside her little rockstar-daughter bubble. How sad was that?

She made her way through the theater's open floor below the stage, showing her pass to the bouncers at the side and ducking under the ropes that separated the growing crowd from the band. If Mabel could just hang out in the green room until this was over, she could probably guilt her dad into taking her out for ice cream. Triple fudge would be best, even if her friend Sissy insisted all those calories went straight to a girl's stomach, making her abs all flabby and gross. Mabel didn't care enough to give up on fudge entirely.

Thoughts of ice cream on her mind, Mabel almost didn't see the girl sitting in the green room until she screamed, fumbling the famous Puckerman Fender and catching it just before it hit the ground. The girl looked up, and Mabel gasped in surprise. It was like looking in a mirror, only creepier. "Who are you?" Mabel asked when she could breathe again. "What are you?"

The other girl looked just as dumbstruck as Mabel felt. "Mo-Molly," she stuttered, carefully putting the guitar back where it belonged before collecting herself and raising one eyebrow, as if in challenge. "Molly Hummel. Who are you?"

Putting one hand on her hip, Mabel insisted, "I'm Mabel Puckerman."

"Noah's daughter!" the girl gasped. "No wonder that guy let me back here. We look a lot alike."

"If I had horrible fashion sense, maybe," Mabel scoffed, feeling a little bad when the other girl pouted and looked down at her clothes.

"My dad hates this outfit, too," Molly sighed before squaring her shoulders and crossing her arms across her chest. "But I don't give a flying flip what either of you think. I look badass, perfect for a concert."

"You came to see Dad play," Mabel said, chewing on one thumbnail as Molly gave her a look that clearly said, 'Duh.' "Are we related somehow? Are you a cousin or something?" Mabel asked, wondering exactly how weak she would look for sitting down.

Molly scoffed and clenched her jaw, saying, "Unless you're related to _the_ Kurt Hummel, I don't see how."

"_The_ Kurt Hummel?" Mabel asked. "The fashion god? You're related to him?"

"He's my dad."

Mabel shook her head. She was used to meeting famous people's children, but to have one of them look exactly like her was too … weird. It was weird and Mabel didn't like it at all, until she remembered that talk she'd had with her Aunt Sarah. "Oh my god!"

Starting at Mabel's loud cry, Molly asked, "What?"

"I think… I think your dad and my dad used to be married," Mabel said slowly, putting the pieces together in her head. "Do you … could we be _sisters_?"

"That's stupid," Molly scoffed, though Mabel saw how wide her eyes had gotten. "My dad has never _been_ married. He's too busy with me and the label."

"My dad's too busy with me and his music," Mabel confessed, finally giving in to the urge to sit down. "But my aunt told me he used to be married to a man named Kurt. They had me with a surrogate."

Molly joined her on the couch, but kept her arms crossed defensively. "What's that?"

"That's where they knock a girl up with a turkey baster," Mabel explained. "You have a gay dad. Shouldn't you know all this?"

"Dad always said my mom was in heaven," Molly replied, chewing on the edge of her lower lip. "I never really questioned it. Oh, _man_! _This _explains why he won't let me have a guitar!"

"What day were you born?" Mabel asked, shuffling a little closer to the girl she _knew_ had to be her sister. "And what year?"

"April 21st," Molly replied, finally uncrossing her arms, "2019."

Mabel squealed a little, unable to help it, powerless against the excited, tight feeling in her chest. "Me too!"

"We're twins?"Molly asked skeptically, though her grin was gradually widening.

"Uh-huh!" Mabel replied, scooting even closer to the girl. "Our dads must have separated us when they broke up."

Molly stood up suddenly, almost whacking Mabel in the face as she flailed. "How could they do this to us? I've had a sister this entire time? Those jerks!"

"Where do you live?" Mabel asked, standing up and holding her hands out like it would help Molly calm down.

"New York."

"I'm out in LA," Mabel said, loving the way her _sister's_ eyes lit up at the mention of it. "You ever been?"

Molly shook her head vehemently. "I've always wanted to go, but Daddy never lets me."

"My dad won't let me go to New York, the only place in the world I've ever wanted to visit," Mabel explained. "Maybe we should switch places to teach them a lesson."

Mabel watched as the idea washed over Molly's face, making her put on all sorts of expressions Mabel was pretty sure she was incapable of before finally settling on a wide grin. "Hug on it?"

Launching herself into her sister's arms, Mabel thought maybe this was the best idea she'd ever have in her entire life.

* * *

><p><em>I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next, but I loved the movie as a kid, and I'm starting to get an idea of where this could be going. As always, any reviewscomments are welcome and appreciated._


	2. Acting the Part

**Author Notes: **Written for a prompt in the LJ puckurt fic meme. Un-beta'd. Sorry if I missed any mistakes. Don't expect the pace to continue like this. Really. Don't.**  
>Summary: <strong>Mabel Puckerman and Molly Hummel were never supposed to meet, but they did. Can two thirteen-year-old girls concoct the perfect revenge to pull on their still-single fathers, or will their plans come crashing down around them? Obviously based on the 1961 movie of the same name (because Haley Mills is way better than Lindsey Lohan).

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong> - Acting the Part**  
><strong>

When Mabel returned to her seat in the balcony twenty minutes later, she had Molly's contact info stored in her phone, was wearing Molly's clothes, and had a bottle of Diet Coke in her hand – apparently it was Molly's favorite. "Hi, guys," she said to Molly's friends, sitting down in the seat they'd saved for her. "Sorry I took so long. I decided to change back, and then there was a huge line."

"God," the older girl – _Jody_, Mabel reminded herself – sighed. "I almost thought I'd have to report you missing to the cops. Do you know how much trouble I'd be in?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Mabel promised, watching as the opening act came onto stage. "I wouldn't miss my ride home for the world."

* * *

><p>Molly tried to stay cool when Noah Puckerman came back into the green room only a few minutes after Mabel had left. "Hey, Peach-pie," he said absently, grabbing an energy drink from the refreshment table and popping it open. "I thought Steve was going to let you sit out in the stands."<p>

"I didn't like the crowd," Molly replied, trying so hard to sound normal as her hero plopped down on the couch next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I'll watch from the wings."

"Alright," Noah nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple that made Molly feel like she was dying. "Make sure to wear those earplugs, though, or your Aunt Sarah will skin both our hides."

"Ha, ha, yeah," Molly agreed, laughing awkwardly. She took a deep breath, trying to remind herself that this was just a guy, just a human being. Molly should treat him like she would treat her own dad, not like he hung the moon and the stars and had the best voice _ever_. "Don't worry, Daddy. I'll be fine."

"Daddy?" Noah laughed, giving Molly a weird but amused look. "You haven't called me that since you were seven and it became 'uncool' according to your friends."

"I was just …" Molly tried to explain, wondering if she looked as red and embarrassed as she felt, before remembering she had learned how to act from one of the best – Kurt Hummel. Taking a steadying breath, Molly put on her patented Hummel cool-face and said, "I was just trying it out. Got a problem with that?"

Noah laughed again, ruffling her hair and saying, "Nuh-uh, sweet cheeks. I've got no problem. No problem at all."

"Alright, then," Molly nodded, as if everything was decided. "How much longer until you go on?"

Noah shrugged a little before scratching one of his (slightly graying) temples and muttering, "The boys have a short set, I think. Maybe half an hour."

Molly nodded with a smile, feeling very outside herself and wondering how long she could keep up the act before Noah-freaking-Puckerman realized she wasn't his daughter Mabel.

* * *

><p>Watching her father onstage, knowing Molly was watching from the side, Mabel wondered what Kurt Hummel was like in person. She and Molly hadn't had much time to exchange life-stories, so all she knew was the specifics of tonight – she, Hannah, and Jody had sneaked away from New York to come to this concert. In the morning, she would go home to Molly's grandparents, Burt and Carole Hummel, while her father was in Paris on a business trip. Mabel hoped both she and Molly could keep up the ruse long enough for him to come back, because she really wanted to meet this man her father had married all those years ago.<p>

What could he be like? Was he as cold and calculating as he always looked in his pictures, or was he the kind of dad that would raise a brash, but warm daughter, as Molly's first impression seemed to prove? Did he care about Molly's school and her grades, or was he more concerned with her extracurriculars, like Mabel's father was?

Was he still single because he still loved Noah or was he single because Mabel's dad had broken his heart? Was it the other way around? Was _her_ dad still single not because he was too busy for romance, but because he was too upset over Kurt to move on?

Her dad's band came on soon enough, Hannah and Jody whooping and hollering their lungs out, and as the music started, Mabel wondered if any of the songs he wrote were about _the_ Kurt Hummel. Now that Mabel knew she never had more than an egg-donor for a mom, they couldn't be about her.

_I said I'm sorry twice before,  
>Never thought I'd say it again.<br>But this is too damn hard,  
>And I think you know<br>I'm not coming home, my friend._

_These years I've spent without you  
>That empty span of sheets.<br>I keep trying to forget the way  
>Your skin smelled oh, so sweet.<em>

_I guess I'm better off without you,  
>Without the fucked-up things you say.<br>It would have taken both of us  
>To make one of us stay.<em>

_Better off without you.  
>I'm better off without you.<br>I know you think I'm wrong._

_Better off without you.  
>We're better off without you.<br>Still, I'm writing you this song._

Mabel wanted to sing along with her father like she normally did, but suddenly it didn't feel right singing about how they were better off without Kurt and Molly. She'd grown up as half a family and never even known it.

Mabel tried to fight off the tears, but Hannah must have seen, because she leaned over and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," Mabel insisted. "Shiny. He's just so …"

"I know, right?" Hannah grinned, turning back toward the stage and belting out the lyrics that told more stories than Mabel ever knew.

* * *

><p>Watching a concert from off stage kicked ass! Molly had never been this close to the music and even though that guy Steve frowned at her until she put her foam-rubber earplugs in, she could still hear more and see more than she ever could up in the balcony with her friends. Molly danced and sang along with all the songs, knowing each and every one by heart.<p>

She figured it must have been destiny that her favorite band belonged to her father's ex. Molly knew she was related by blood to the Hummels, since she had the same forehead and the same cheekbones and chin as her father and her grandfather, but she also wondered if she looked a little like Noah Puckerman, even if that didn't make any sense. Was that why she was drawn to his music? Or was it some twin-superpower thing, gleaning the preference from Mabel, even three thousand miles away?

She knew this switch-to-teach-them-a-lesson plan was Mabel's, but Molly wondered if maybe they could have another motive. Maybe, if their fathers loved each other enough at one point to get married and have kids, they could fall in love again. Then she could have Noah Puckerman and his amazing guitar and her own twin sister around all the time. It was perfect!

And seriously, her dad was _way_ too uptight without a man in his life.

* * *

><p>After the concert ended, Mabel left the theater with Molly's friends, following them back to a beat-up old Honda and getting in the back seat. There was a backpack there, but Mabel didn't want to go rifling through just anyone's possessions, so she said, "It's dark back here. This is my bag, right?"<p>

"Yee-ahh," Hannah replied with a roll of her eyes. "Who else would it belong to?"

Mabel shook her head and turned on her phone for the backlight, rummaging around in Molly's backpack for any clues about who she was supposed to be now that she was impersonating her own long-lost twin sister. Hmm. Sweaty-smelling arm-bands with "Lodestone Academy" embroidered on them, a tablet labeled "Hummel Homework", a few spiky metal things that looked like they belonged on a pair of cleats like the ones her friend Danny wore to play football, a paper notebook full of snippets of words and little drawings, three dinosaur-shaped pencil erasers, but only one ink pen, and about a zillion different colored ponytail holders. Mabel felt sort of like an Archeologist digging through the detritus left behind in some far-off land. How could her twin be so different? Was it because they grew up separately? If she'd lived with Molly all her life, would Mabel have become a different person? Would living with Kurt Hummel change her?

No, it was only for a little while, only until both she and Molly got a feel for what each other's parents were like. Then they would switch back, live their own lives until they could convince their dads to let them visit each other. That's how it had to be.

* * *

><p>At the hotel, Molly was relieved to find out that she had a separate room from Noah, even if they were connected. While she was still figuring out how to be Mabel, a little privacy was going to be a must. It might also help Molly understand why her twin had more product stuffed into her overnight bag than a troupe of clowns. Due to her father's influence, Molly knew for the most part what each bottle was for and how expensive they were, but she was fucked if she knew how to use them.<p>

"Stop swearing," Molly told herself aloud out of habit. "It's nasty and uncouth."

"And here I thought," Noah Puckerman's voice filled the room, chuckling, "that swearing was awesome and badass."

Molly laughed a little, awkwardly, and the way Noah tensed up made her think maybe she'd blown her cover. But, he just shook his head a little sadly and said, "Anything in particular you want to see tomorrow? Lots of history around here, I guess."

"So?" Molly asked, confused.

"Last time I checked," Noah explained with an indulgent smile, "the History Channel was your favorite."

Molly realized that maybe she and Mabel didn't have much more in common than a face, so she smiled and said, "Of course. Yeah. That's me. History buff. Let's do that, then…"

"Don't suppose you'd want to go see a baseball game with me?" Noah added, looking like he was setting himself up for disappointment. The funny thing was that Molly loved baseball, especially this late in the season when everything got intense. And to see Boston baseball? That would be even better.

"I guess I could go," she shrugged, trying to play it cool even though she was jumping up and down on the inside. "If you want. I mean, I wouldn't _mind_."

Noah looked at her for a moment before shaking his head, "Nah. You'll just get bored. We'll do something else tomorrow night."

"No!" Molly cried, wincing at how loud her voice sounded. "I mean, no, Dad. I'd like to go see a baseball game with you. We're going."

"Ah," Noah smiled slowly until he was grinning, pulling Molly close and kissing the top of her head. "There's my little dictator. Baseball it is! Now it's late. Get some sleep, Peach-pie. Big day tomorrow."

"History and baseball," Molly agreed, watching as Noah-freaking-Puckerman left her room and closed the door gently behind him.

Just when Molly was about to breathe a sigh of relief and say, "So far, so good," the door opened again.

"Oh, don't forget about Temple tomorrow morning, May," Noah mentioned. "Steve found us a good one to go to. You know, not to stiff or whatever."

"Sure," Molly agreed, already reaching for her phone as the door closed again, so she could yell into Mabel's ear, "Temple?"

* * *

><p>"It'll be <em>fine<em>," Mabel replied softly, trying not to let the girls in the front seat listen in on who she was talking to. "Just tell Dad you don't feel well and pretend to be spacey all morning. He'll feed you brunch after Temple, and you can have a miraculous recovery."

"But I've _never_ _been_ to church!" Molly hissed, obviously trying to keep her voice down, too. "I have no idea what to do!"

Mabel sighed and said, "Just mumble along with all the prayers and follow Dad's lead. If he thinks you're sick, he won't care if you mess stuff up. He'll just be that much more eager to feed you."

"Is he one of those people who tries to solve everything with food?" Molly asked, and Mabel could almost feel the eye-roll.

Chuckling a little, Mabel replied, "And exercise. He gets the food part from Nana and the exercise part from being a jock in high-school. Don't worry. You'll get used to it."

"He was a jock?" Molly asked, sounding shocked. "But his music is so _sensitive_!"

Mabel laughed again and shook her head. "Anything more I should know about 'Grandpa' and 'Grandma'? Or 'Dad' for that matter?"

"Call him Daddy most of the time," Molly suggested. "And try not to spend too much time with Grandpa Burt. He'll try to get you to play soccer with him, but his heart just can't take it."

"Won't be a problem," Mabel insisted. "I wouldn't touch a soccer field unless it was covered with Prada."

Molly made a noise that sounded sort of like a hiss over the phone and said, "That's gonna be a problem. We've got practice Monday and Wednesday, and a game on Friday that Daddy said he'd be home in time for. You might have to fake an injury."

"Like what?" Mabel asked, suddenly concerned and realizing that those cleat-tips in Molly's bag should have clued her in to the fact that her twin was, apparently, _athletic_.

"Don't say anything's broken, 'cause they'll just take x-rays and show that it's not," Molly mused. "Oh, fake a bad strain, like, roll your ankle or something. That always seems to work when my friend Roger wants to get out of gym class, the putz."

"You have a _boyfriend_?" Mabel asked, wondering if being thirteen meant something different in New York than it did in LA, where girls and boys were just starting to notice one another.

Molly laughed long and loud before replying, "Are you crazy? I have a friend who is a boy, because we both like soccer and comic books, but I don't have a _boyfriend_. Why, do you?"

"No," Mabel insisted, suddenly realizing Hannah was looking back at her with a funny expression. "Look. I've got to go. Call me tomorrow sometime."

She thought she heard Molly call, "No! Wait-" but Molly hung up anyway, smiling up at Hannah.

"Who was that? It's almost one in the morning," Hannah said, brushing her hair back from sleepy eyes.

"Um..." Mabel stalled, knowing she couldn't tell the truth because Molly said Hannah was a notorious gossip. "That was my ... cousin," she finally said, "from LA. Always forgets there's a time-difference."

"I thought your cousins all lived in Ohio," she said, starting to look more suspicious.

"On my mom's side," Mabel guessed. "Second cousins."

As if finally getting the point that she didn't want to talk about her second cousins, Hannah rolled here eyes and said, "Whatever. How much longer 'till we get home, Jo?"

"Maybe an hour," Hannah's older sister said, taking a long swallow of her coffee. "Traffic's always weird when we get closer to the city."

Realizing she might soon be able to see the bright lights of New York City, Mabel pressed her nose to the glass, eagerly awaiting that first glint of light. The Big Apple. Broadway!

Finally!

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><p><em>Please don't forget to review!<em>


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